


Room 112

by golden_paxamdays



Series: "Joshler" Hotel AU [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph - Fandom, josh dun - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Who Knows?, but in a pleasant way, hotel thing, is that how you spell pleasant?, not much romance?, probably not going to make it a series but?, v uneventful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_paxamdays/pseuds/golden_paxamdays
Summary: Josh and Tyler work together in a hotel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was written so quickly but! i like it. i was gonna make it a Big Long Thing but i got distracted by other stories. if anyone wants more, though, let me know!

“So,” Tyler said, leaning towards Josh with his chin in his hands, “How was your date?” Josh rolled his eyes, but he was grinning like an idiot. He had mentioned casually, a week ago, in passing that he had a date the following Thursday. Tyler wouldn’t let it go, and asked him about it almost every day since it was mentioned. 

“I think it went okay. We took a walk after dinner. It was nice.”

“You’re disgusting and this conversation is not safe for work.” Tyler feigned disgust and Josh laughed, but they both straightened up quickly when they noticed Ernie coming.

Ernie wasn’t their boss, but most everyone was very confident he was related to the boss. Ernie was a man who constantly bordered on both being belligerent and making other people belligerent. He was a balding man who had the awful habit of speaking mostly in rhyme, except he was very bad at it. Often, if you engaged him in a conversation, he wouldn’t respond to you for minutes after you asked him the most simple, even rhetorical question. He’d come back to you even if you’ve walked away or started getting work done to say something like “Last night I visited the zoo; But then again, what’s it to you?” He always expected you to congratulate him.

“What’s up with you boys? I heard you two… making noise. In fact, they could even hear it in Illinois!” Josh smiled and waved at Ernie, but Tyler just went over to the desk and messed about straightening the room keys, muttering something about the correct pronunciation of "Illinois". They worked in a hotel (“Washington Inn”), at the front desk. Ernie did room service, Josh and Tyler were pretty sure.

“Nothing, what about you?” Josh responded, glancing at Tyler. Tyler raised his eyebrows, and Josh mouthed “You’re talking to him next time”. Tyler just looked confused and shrugged his shoulders. He knew what Josh was mouthing, though.

“You wouldn’t want to know what I did last night; I assure you, you’d receive quite a fright!”

“Hello, my name is Tyler. Do you have a reservation for a room?”

“Never in my life; have I been so surprised; for with my own kitchen knife; was I to meet my demise.”

“We have three rooms open, 112, 401, and 723. The higher the floor, the higher the price.”

“I am merely kidding; I got you good. Thank you for your prodding; I’m doing good.”

“Here are your keys, checkout times are 11:00 each morning, first floor is $98 per night, breakfast starts at 6:00.”

This was Josh’s life. Ernie waved goodbye instead of having to think of a rhyme, and Josh waved back. He turned to Tyler, who had just finished up with the customer. It was a man in a stained work shirt and a tie that didn't match, combed over hair, and a habit of training his eyes on his spotty leather shoes. Josh had stopped looking at the hands for wedding rings, it only made him feel worse as the nights progressed and he had to let countless young, usually high men into the same room as the usually tubby, usually middle aged, usually leaving-by-midnight occupant.

“What time is it?” Josh asked once the man had gotten into the elevator.

“7:15.”

“I’d put $10 on a noise complaint by 9:00.”

“Should I search ‘looking for young discreet gay man’ on Craigslist or should I just skip the middleman and put in the hotel address?” Tyler was already shaking the computer mouse to wake up the screen and putting in the computer password (which was just “washingtoninnpassword”). Josh was blushing like a madman, and reached over Tyler to shut off the monitor.

“Don’t, it’s more fun to wait and see.”

“For you maybe,” Tyler retorted, but he made no move to turn the screen back on.

“Anyway, what do you have today?” Josh asked, sitting on the desk so he could face Tyler. 

“You’ll get fired if you keep sitting up there. Y’know, the desk will warp or something.” Tyler was imitating his boss as he said that last part.

“Okay so the worst that’ll happen to me is I’ll get in trouble with Mr. Rogers-"

"Narcoleptic Nick," Tyler corrected.

"-for a job I don’t care about. I’ll take the risk.” 

Tyler didn’t mention it, but he was kind of taken aback. He knew that neither of them really liked their job, but Tyler would’ve thought that seeing him every day would be nice for Josh. It was nice for Tyler, and Tyler knew he’d be sad if he were fired if only because he wouldn’t see Josh every day.

“Anyway,” Tyler said, quieter than before. Josh felt bad, but not bad enough to say anything. Ty took out the bookbag he used to bring food into work and emptied it out onto the desk, revealing lukewarm yogurt, a Nature Grain bar, and broken chips in two clear plastic bags.

“Thank the heavens for Tyler Joseph,” Josh said, poking through the snacks. He took both bags of chips and pushed the yogurt and granola bar towards the other boy. Tyler took it and sat at the gradually breaking chair behind the front desk. He picked at the exposed foam on the armrest as the chair squeaked at him. He bit into the granola bar first.

“I’ll bet you five dollars that the first guy coming for that married guy will have bleached hair.”

“I’d take that bet, but I know I’d lose.”

“I’ll bet you for your bag of chips. You’d have to take the yogurt if you lose, you get to keep the chips if you win.”

“Fine,” Josh conceded. in another four or five minutes, the door opened. Josh was off the counter immediately, turning around and smiling.

The man told Tyler that he was here for a Leonard in room 112 (the man in 112 was named Fred, but Tyler let it slide) and wanted to make sure he’d gotten in already. He glared at Josh in his periphery, and Josh didn’t know why. He tugged at his highlighter hair, he did it unconsciously whenever someone gave him a look, but that made him think to look at the other man’s hair. Brown, but with very obvious bleached highlights. Josh looked at Tyler, but Tyler was looking at the man with a wide smile and blank eyes. Josh felt suddenly guilty for not doing his job and took down the guy's name in the log right next to where he sat. He looked at his chicken scratch, but couldn’t bring himself to erase and rewrite the name. No one checked the written logs, but Mr. Rogers liked the idea of having one too much to throw it away. Besides, this man would be here for an hour tops. There would be more tonight, each person carrying their own diseases and each as urgent as the latter.

The man scurried over to the elevator, and Josh put the bag between them.

“We share. We were both right.”

Tyler dug his hand into the bag eagerly, throwing his yogurt in the trash absentmindedly. No matter who chose the snacks, at least once a week someone would dig yogurt that was about to expire out of the back of their fridge and throw it in a bookbag. It was an easy way to get rid of food you were never going to eat without guilt. 

"Haven't we seen him before?" Tyler asked.

"The faces all run together," Josh responded before taking a chip from his other bag.

It was 8:01.

At 8:14, they received the complaint. Josh held his hand out for Tyler, who had already fished $10 out of his pocket. He knew they couldn’t have finished in time for him to win the bet.

Josh took his money and volunteered to cover it. He took as much time between the counter and elevator as possible.

When he got to the lovers’ room, room 112, Josh knocked quietly. He soon realized that they were a little bit preoccupied and knocked louder. He announced that he was with the hotel and the room went immediately silent.

“Why interrupt their days of love; just because you aren’t seeing doves.” Ernie was tsking as he walked past, and Josh knocked even harder.

The man with the highlights answered the door. "Problem, sir?" he asked, leaning on the doorway. His voice was shrill and he was panting. He was shirtless, nearly pant-less, and sweating.

"Just keep it down and I won't have to come up here again." And cum stains the bedsheets, he wanted to add. He thought better of it (and didn't really want to say "cum stains" to a stranger) and waited silently for any response from the man. But the man just nodded and slammed the door.

When Josh got back downstairs, Tyler was talking on his cell phone. Josh sat down on the desk grumpily, shoveling chips into his mouth and tapping his fingers against the fake marble.

“I get off work soon and then I’ll go over.”

Only after Josh started beating the surface with his fingers did he realize it was to the rhythm of The Jonas Brothers’ “Burnin’ Up”, and stopped immediately.

“Are you now?”

Josh took a blue pen and a red pen from the artsy pencil case and switched the caps, and then switched them back. And then switched them back. And then switched them back.

“Shit, then I’m off work now.” Tyler hung up, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the end.

“Could you cover for me? It’s family…” Tyler asked, looking simultaneously concerned and, well, there was no better word than sad.

“Sure. I’ll miss you forever,” Josh joked. Tyler nodded and rushed out the door. 

When Tyler came back, his face was puffy and he walked like people checking in at 4 PM with jetlag walked.

“So sorry, man,” he started immediately as he sat down. He paused for a short while, until continuing “it’s just, y’know, like-”

“You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.” Josh smiled at him and considered patting his knee, but that was weird.

“You’re a good man,” Tyler mumbled. The brown/blonde boy was just leaving, fiddling with something in his slightly torn pocket. It was probably keys, but what they were for was a mystery as he didn’t have a car. It was completely dark outside, and maybe it was clouds or maybe it was pollution but there wasn’t a star in the entire universe, dead or alive, that was hanging over Washington Inn that night.

It was 11:04.


End file.
